We Met In A Jail Cell
by AsLightAsAHeather
Summary: DJ meets a woman covered in dirt in the jail cell before Rose and Finn arrive. He frees her, and brings her with them, stowing her on board The Libertine. Gradually, they become partners and then much more. A story taking place in Star Wars The Last Jedi. If you just want the smut then skip to the last chapter :3
1. Part 1: The Meeting

*went ahead and broke up the first very long chapter into smaller parts to make it easier to read.*

Her nails were filthy, as was the rest of her. The dirt her last cellmate flung at her was still sticking, and of course the guards wouldn't let her wash it off. It had been a week. Her life had turned from blind rage to quiet introspection in this cell. Now, she had nothing else to do but train, and exercise. Every day she thought of how to murder the casino guards and finally escape, but that dream seemed more and more hopeless with each passing day.

Then, something interesting happened…something that would change her life for the better. The guards brought someone else into her cell.

A man staggered in beside the guards. From the brief look she got at him, he looked worse for wear, which was the way most casino patrons looked. He stumbled in and fell immediately on the cot next to hers. He smelled like liquor. She assumed he was just another drunk that needed to cool off from the casino upstairs. But after the guards left, he sat upright in bed rather abruptly.

"This place smells awful," he said looking around. She couldn't see his face very well, just the outline of it. His voice was low, but not sluggish in the way a drunk normally speaks.

"We're near the stables," she piped up from the darkness across from him.

He turned his head in her direction. "Oh, well hello t-t-there."

"Hello," she answered.

"I didn't notice you there in the darkness." He said, pointing a finger in her direction. She instinctively put her long cloak over her arms, making sure he couldn't really see her.

"Didn't know if you were like my last cellmate, who was… rude," she said.

"Ah, and w-w-what happened to this cellmate?" He said, taking his long boots off. He had holes in his socks. He probably hadn't been a patron of the casino.

"Oh, he's very dead," she explained calmly. Her cellmate had been a nuisance. She didn't regret killing him.

"Well, that's good at least," he said.

She heard footsteps approaching. The guards called out, "You put the drunk in the cell with her!" The 'drunk' went back to pretending to sleep, as the guards came to carry him out. Not before stunning her a few times to make sure she didn't try anything. She took the hits and stayed down, not wanting to cause more trouble.

They moved him to the cell across from hers. After the guards left, he waited and then came up to the bars. She was still laying on the ground, but her cloak was covering her face. When she pulled herself up, she saw him staring at her dirty arms. She felt an intense amount of shame and quickly hid in the back of the cell.

He stared at her into the darkness for a moment, and then his attitude changed as he relaxed against the bars, inspecting the lock to the door.

She thought he must have been a smuggler or thief; he certainly looked the part. He still didn't have his boots on, so his toes stuck out touching the cold floor, which made him look ridiculous. She thought about telling him how disgusting the floor had been, but decided to stay silent and watch him. His rough appearance conveyed poverty, though she told herself it could have been an act. He wasn't as dirty as her, but he was maybe a little greasy. She couldn't tell from this far away. She enjoyed watching him inspect the lock, though. He seemed to be playing with it. She couldn't make out his face well from so far away, but she could tell his features were dark and perhaps even handsome. It threw her off a bit.

"Ya know, shadow-lady, I've been thinking," he wondered, pointing a silver pick in her direction. "Why haven't they killed you yet? I mean if you're going around murdering people...what are you doing a-a-alive?" Maybe it was his strange way of speaking or the relaxed humor behind his eyes, but she found herself warming up to him very fast.

She chucked softly at his strange candor. "I wasn't going to kill you."

"Oh, I have no doubt in my mind, I would have been safe sleeping across from you, but it is a bit-t-t strange don't you think?" He said while fiddling with the lock. He had an odd sort of stutter. It didn't seem like one based on nervousness, or however stutters work. It was more like a tick, or like he was doing it for fun. Either way, for her it only added to his character.

"Not strange for Canto Bight," she replied, "Murder isn't exactly unheard of here, and they're used to seeing me."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere while this door is closed. You s-s-say they're used to seeing you here? Are you a trouble maker, shadow-lady?" He picked something from his hat, and continued to fiddle with the lock. It didn't look like he was trying to unlock it, more study it, as though he needed to understand it first.

She didn't answer. Something about him relaxed her, which made her a bit wary of him. He looked up briefly into the darkness towards her.

"I like your voice shadow-lady. Can't remember the last time I heard a thing so pleasant," he said. She thought she saw him wink, but couldn't be sure.

He had tried to reassure her, which she didn't expect. It worked. She responded, "On Canto Bight if you don't have the money, then you serve the money. I serve. His name means something. So, here I am… left to rot, until he picks me up."

"And I was hoping you were single," he said sardonically.

She shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "It isn't like that. I guard and kill people for him." The words felt like poison on her lips.

He stopped again to look at the darkness where she hid, "And this killing, do you enjoy it?"

"Not particularly," she admitted, "I'm sure I could find better people to kill."

She saw him shrug his shoulders in agreement. "Then why not one day when someone g-g-goes to stab him, you just step aside and…let him get stabbed?" he asked. The man left the lock alone and went back to his cot.

Her hand went to her wrist. "He can kill me at any moment. If he died, his daughter would activate this wristband and kill me. I'm beginning to think he forgot about me."

"Hmm…" the man said. Suddenly, the guards bring in what look like two very rowdy children. The man falls silent, and she assumes, goes back to pretending to be an asleep drunk. They place the two people in the cell with the thief. They're a very talkative pair, and from what the woman can gather, members of the resistance. They make a deal with the smuggler, it sounds like…or maybe not. It's hard to hear the conversation. Suddenly, his cell door opens, and he briskly walks out. The two resistance fighters leave in the opposite direction. The woman sighs, disappointed with the way this has turned out for her. If she had kept her mouth shut then the man wouldn't have been moved and she could have escaped when he did.

"You know…" The man says as he briskly strolls back to her cell. "I've seen those devices before." He opens her cell, walking toward her confidently. She's still hidden in the darkness, but he can make an outline of her. He points to her left arm. She realizes he must have seen it when she was stunned on the ground.

A bunch of crashing sounds down the hallway. The woman is still hesitant as the man ignores the noise and continues to stare at her. She steps forward, extending her arm, but trying to cover her face with the cowl of her cloak. Before she covers her face, she sees him glance at her. Her cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

"I'm not actually this filthy." She says, slowly extending her arm.

He takes her wrist in his hand, and pulls something out of his hat. He doesn't seem bothered by her mud-covered arms, just focused on the device around her wrist.

"I didn't believe you were," he said. Suddenly a jolt of electricity goes through her arm, and the device powers down. He places a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's get a ship with a good bath, eh?" He leaves the cell but doesn't let go of her wrist, pulling her alongside him. Her heart racing, she follows the man. She wonders what is happening, as she has a short out of body experience. She looks at herself, following a stranger who's just released her from this burden on her arm. She wonders if she's allowing herself to be kidnapped. If he's someone that works for her boss or one of his boss's enemies and wants to take her to them. She stares at the device on her arm, still bewildered that it's powered off. She lets go of his hand trying to slip it off, but finds though it's loosened it still too tight to fit over her hand. He glances back to her. He pauses, waiting to see if she's still following. When he notices she's just trying to slip the wristband off, he rounds the corner.

After a stalemate battle with the wristband, she follows him around the corner and see's he and a small droid. The droid was apparently responsible for the noise they heard earlier. She notices the guards have been tied up, or knocked out on the ground. The woman kicks a couple of them in the head, untying one who'd been particularly cruel, to fight him. The droid beeps at her, but the man shushes it. She quickly dispatches of the guard, spitting on his face. She turns back to them, to find the man looking nonplussed and the droid beeping angrily. She realizes fast, that the droid is very bossy. It seems the smuggler and the resistance fighters _did_ make a deal, and the droid is with them. She didn't know what she'd gotten herself into, but she didn't have many more options now. If they were planning on leaving this planet, she wanted to be with them.

"Let's take my boss's ship." She suggests as they argue about where the two fighters have gone. That seems to shut them up. They make way to the docking bay, with her leading the way, clearing out anyone in their path.

The guards outside the ship recognize her. They have wristbands on their arms like hers. She knocks them out, deciding not to kill them. She knows they don't have much choice in the matter. Though their fate may be worse when her boss realizes his ship is gone.

The man looks impressed with her fighting skills. She's familiar with the kind of look he gives her. Many of her boss's partners offered to buy her from him, but he insisted she was indispensable. That had always given her a sense of pride. She knew it was a warped way to view herself, but she relied on any positivity in her life to survive…even if that was praise from her tyrannical boss. The way the man looked at her was different though. Not just entertained, but extremely impressed. There was a respect behind his eyes, and something else. She couldn't place it yet.

Ignoring the man's constant eye on her, she looked at the ground as she spoke, "I know the passcode to enter the ship, but if there's a lock in the pilot—"

"I'll handle it," he reassured them. "You and the d-d-droid just clear the ship."

Luckily, the ship was empty. She wasn't sure if she would have been prepared for a large showdown in her state. Her adrenaline was beginning to subside. The man easily unlocked the interface in the pilot's seat, and soon they were off. She was amazed by his splicing skills.

Now on board the ship and only able to focus on cleaning as soon as possible, she excused herself. She headed directly to her old boss's bedroom. She locked the door behind her, took her cloak and clothes off and started the shower in his spa-like bathroom. It was something she had always eyed before, and the idea of bathing in it now was too good of an opportunity to miss.

She was still unable to remove the wristband in the shower. With soap to loosen it she was at least able to clean around and under where it had been. After scrubbing and washing for at least an hour, she headed into his closet. Remembering that he was a 4-hundred-pound man, she saw none of his clothing would fit her. Luckily, his daughter's quarters were nearby. She took the towel she'd wrapped around her head, and placed it around her waist instead. Opening the adjacent door, she headed into his daughter's room, and gasped as she entered.

The maybe-thief man was standing by the daughter's vanity table, holding up a bottle of perfume, that the woman realized he'd just recently sprayed. When she enters, he's coughing and putting the perfume back down on the table, clearly regretting the decision She backed into the hallway, hoping he didn't see her in a towel. Luckily, he didn't, but he did hear her gasp.

"Uhhhh…who is there?" he asks.

"Hello, again," she says quietly from the hallway.

"The shadow-lady reappears," he announces, "well…s-s-sort of."

"I need to get into that room to look for clothing, so if you don't mind-"

He interrupts her, "How about I'll close my eyes, and you lead me out of here?"

"What?" she says surprised, "No. Just hand me something from the closet," she demands.

She hears the man fumble around in the room. After a minute, he sticks his hand out of the door, holding the gaudiest bright pink dress she's ever seen. She can hear him giggling from in the room.

Giving up, she says, "Fine, close your eyes."

"You got it."

She peaks around the door. His eyes are closed. Slowly, she takes his hand and leads him out of the room. When they've reached outside, she takes a moment to examine him in the better lighting of the ship. His hair is a bit disheveled, and his face looks like it could use a shave. He had thick black eyebrows and eyes with deep, dark circles around them. He looked worn down. His eyes weren't droopy, but they looked very tired. Even, as they escaped she remembered his eyes always looked half closed. She realized it was just the way his face looked, and she certainly enjoyed looking at it. She found him full of character, and quite handsome.

She gets a bit carried away, forgetting that he's waiting on her to let go of him. She assumed his hands would be rougher to match his appearance, and because he seemed like a tinkerer. But in fact, there are only a few calluses on it. She wondered if he had any combat training at all. She gets lost in thought, tracing her fingers over his palm. She feels his breathing deepen as he steps closer to her.

"Wow, shadow-lady you smell really good," he says.

"Are you sure it's not the perfume you were just wearing?" she says sarcastically, and dropping his hand. She regrets holding onto his hand for so long. She feels like she took advantage of him slightly, considering she made him keep his eyes closed. He seemed undeterred from her sarcasm, stepping closer to her again.

"That stuff was f-f-fruity. You smell…" She watches him to see if he keeps his eyes closed, which he does. His presence is compelling, as she feels him take up all the space around her. Even though he doesn't get close enough to touch her, the heat of his chest warms her in the cold hallway. He puts his hands behind his back and leans down to her. Somehow, he knows exactly where she is, as he hovers over her head taking a long breath in, smelling her hair, "like fresh flowers. Your voice is sweet. You smell sweet. I bet you taste sweet too."

The word _taste_ rings in her ears as she bewilderedly stares up at him. He has a devilish grin on his face. She thinks about pushing him away or hitting him, but instead softly chuckles.

"You certainly are bold," she says.

"I think knowing you could kill me at any moment, makes me so bold," his hands drop to his sides. One of them briefly touches her hip, and she backs away immediately. He takes a step back as well respecting the space again, and she closes the door behind her. She hears him start to whistle as he walks away. Feeling light headed, she sits on the bed. She hadn't expected a response like that, but it didn't make her uncomfortable. If she _was_ uncomfortable, it was at how much she enjoyed his confidence. She barely knew the man. She checks her pulse, and makes sure she's breathing. After catching her breath, she gets up.


	2. Part 2: The Escape

Shaking her head to get the thought of him out of her mind, she decided to get dressed. Most of what was in this woman's closet was more gaudy nonsense like the pink dress. Luckily, she found some brown pants that must have been the daughter's riding gear. They were high waisted and when she put on the boots, they locked into the bottom of the pants. Weird fit, but good for fighting. She did some stretches in them to make sure they'd work. Then she found a billowy sort of white shirt that looked like something pirates wore. She tucked the front of the shirt into her pants, and then went to dry her hair in the bathroom. It hovered slightly over her shoulders and sprung up in waves as it dried. She was overdue for a haircut. Satisfied for now, she left. She then headed back into her old bosses room and retrieved an energy sword from the wall. It was one he kept in a glass case…another thing she'd always eyed. As she broke the glass and took it, she felt a thrill. Securing it to her side, she returned to the bridge of the ship.

"Hello," the woman said as she saw a young woman sitting in the pilot's seat. It was one of the rowdy children she'd spotted in his cell. He and the droid must have found them.

"Hey," the young fighter said quietly, clearly distracted by something. She did a double take, looking back at the woman, "Wait, who are you?" she said with pointed finger.

The woman crossed her arms, "Oh, I was in a cell across from you."

The young fighter looked at the woman's arm, seeing the shackle. "He freed you?" she said confusedly.

"I guess he did," the woman answered.

The resistance fighter's eyes narrowed, "Be careful…. He's going to want something."

She peered down at the resistance fighter, squinting her eyes to see if she was serious. When she realized she was, she said rather bluntly, "He wouldn't have freed me if I couldn't do something for him."

It was the only truth the woman had ever known. No one does anything out of the kindness of their heart. They all want something. There's a system to the universe, and the only way to survive is to look out for yourself first and foremost. The young fighter didn't like the woman's words, but the woman could see she was naïve. Most of the resistance fighters were. The resistance fighter turned back around in her chair, done with the conversation. The woman shrugged her shoulders and left the bridge.

As she exited, she heard voices coming from the main office. Normally her old boss's office is deadbolted. She wasn't surprised the man had been able to break in. She heard a young man say in a bit of a huff, "I think I'll go sit with Rose." As she entered the room, the young man was walking towards her. When he looked up seeing her, he stopped.

"Who are you?" he asked. He seemed a bit outraged, but his expression was too comedic to be taken seriously.

"No one important," she answered coyly.

The man had been sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, looking at some of the invoices of her old boss. When he heard her voice, he looked up. His eyes widened. Uncrossing his legs, he stood to stare at her. He looked at her as if they were the only two people in the room, and she felt it. His gaze went directly through her. A small smirk came to his lips, as he continued to stare. The word _taste_ began to echo in her mind again. After a moment, she tilted her head, wondering if he'd ever stop.

The young resistance fighter, caught in whatever was happening between them, looked at the man, then back at her, then back at the man, and for a moment kept looking back and forth at them, until he shook his head and left the room disgruntledly.

The man eventually walked around the couch towards her. He stopped, standing very close, almost as close as he'd been in hallway.

"Shadow-lady, you surprise me." She felt a reluctant smile curve her lip at his flattery. His tired, yet observant eyes looked her up and down. He stopped at her wrist, noticing the shackle still there. With no hesitation, he took her hand in his, and with the other examined the shackle. "Oh, that won't do," he said to himself. He leaned in slightly, putting his face very close to hers, though still inspecting the shackle. He had an incredibly intense face when he focused on something. His heavy eyes lit up under his expressive eyebrows. She realized she was studying his face again, as heat rose to her cheeks. She forced herself to look away. Noticing a hat on his head, it read something…

"Don't Join," she said aloud without thinking.

That took him out of his daze, as he looked back up at her. "Good advice," he said. Their eyes met and she felt caught in them again. There was an unspoken energy between them. It was tugging her to him. The man took a deep breath and took a step away from her. With new purpose, he began searching through the drawers of the office.

"You know som-some of this should probably belong to you." He picked up a handful of gold coins and gave them to her.

She didn't know how to respond, "I—" He went over and opened a drawer filled with jewels. "I dreamed of having my freedom, but now that I have it…I'm not sure what to do." She said.

"Well, this always helps." He said, as he picked up an emerald necklace and placed it around her neck. He looked at her, very pleased with himself. She felt the jewels around her neck with her fingers. They were cold and unfamiliar. She'd never owned anything expensive before. Her boss had given her expensive weapons as gifts, but nothing like this…nothing that wasn't practical. She picked up the rest of the necklaces, putting all of them on.

"I think it suits me," she said jokingly to the man. He gave her an approving smile, and went back to rummaging through the drawers. Watching him search the drawers for treasure reminded her of something. She took all the necklaces off, save for the emerald one he had placed on her. "But you know there's one chest you haven't found yet." She said with a tease.

The man turned to look at her in wide eyed wonder, "Ohhh?"

She put her finger up, "But it's a bit of a puzzle."

"Puzzles are my specialty." He said, rubbing his hands together.

She took him to a compartment hidden in a closet at the back of the ship. It was a large chest, key locked, and she told him "not rigged."

"W-w-what's in it?" he asked, then thought better, saying "Wait. Don't tell me."

"He was fiercely territorial over this. Whatever's in it… is yours. Consider it payment."

He seemed surprised, "Payment?"

"For getting me out of there," she explained.

"You gave me this ship," he said bending down to rub his fingers across the chest.

"I didn't forget. It's all included. I hope this makes us even."

He stops fidgeting with the chest and looks up at her, "We were never odd."

His way of speaking was peculiar to her. Vague, and with a hidden purpose she wanted to see through. A mystery that's not really a mystery. He had these moments of aloofness that would turn into a quiet intensity, and she could never tell which version of the man she was about to get. He sits in front of the chest, and she crosses her legs and sits next to him.

As he begins to work on the chest, his face changes. His eyes narrow, as his fingers move over the lock with precision. She feels like she could watch him work all day on this. It's fascinating.

"Aahhh," he says as he opens the lock with relative ease.

He opens the lid. He looks inside and his face turns from a childlike wonderment to something she hasn't seen before. She furrows her eyebrows, as she begins to worry it was empty. He closes the lid and rubs his eyes.

"What is it?" she asks.

He opens his eyes and looks at her. Somberly, he pushes the chest in her direction. She opens the box and sees white. The white from skulls. Inside the chest are three skulls sitting next to one another in what looked like ceremonial arrangement. In front of them are three wristbands like the one she wore. She stares into the box, as she realizes what they are.

With a heavy sigh, she picks up one of the bracers. "Farlow," she says weakly. Farlow had been a friend of hers, an older man who had served her boss for twenty years. One day in a training exercise, he slipped and broke his foot. Then, he disappeared. Her boss had told them he had been released from servitude as thanks for his obedience. She only realized now how naïve she had been to believe that.

She catches the man staring at Farlow's bracer, and then at the bracer on her arm. His hands are clenched together, and his face still somber. He puts a hand on her back, briefly. Then, gets up and rushes out of the room.

After taking a moment to herself to put the chest away, she stands. Wondering what's wrong with the man, she leaves to see where he's gone. Eventually, she finds him ruffling through drawers again, picking up random nick knacks and tools to spread on a table. He's got that face again, his face of intense focus. He's building something, but she can't figure out what it is.

Suddenly, the male resistance fighter barges in. He announces they're getting close and need the man on the bridge.

The man glances up and nods his head. Then goes back to his building project.

The resistance fighter turns to the woman and says "BB8 said you can fight. We'll need it."

"Oh, will you?" she says bemusedly.

"This mission is important. Thousands of lives are at stake," he says adamantly pointing his finger to the ground.

"They usually are," she replied. "If he's helping you," she gestured to the man, "then I'll help." Though he was still working, she could tell was listening to their conversation judging by the smirk on his face. After the resistance fighter seemed pleased, he left.

The woman turned to the man and said, "I was going to ask about those two, but I figured I'd find out eventually."

The man sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers as he relaxed. "I may have got-t-t you mixed up in something big."

"Better than being a skull in a box," she replied.

. The smuggler-like man gave her a quick rundown of what they were doing, as he took a break from his project. She wasn't too concerned about the details, which made the man laugh.

"You want me-me to just point at who to-to kill?" he laughed.

"Just make sure to tell me when to _stop_ killing," she said matter-of-factly.

He took his hat off, placing it on his chest, "Well, with your permission then."

The resistance fighter had been right. They _were_ close to their destination. The next thing she knew they were impersonating imperial officers, and onboard one of the most dangerous dreadnoughts of the First Order. She watched as the man used the necklace he had to open a door, and then gave it back to the young resistance fighter who looked relieved. The woman didn't understand it. She didn't understand any of the technobabble they were spewing and barely why they were there, but she was good with a blaster, and even better with her new energy sword. She'd been able to kill a few members of the First Order, which she was finding rather therapeutic.

As they entered the weird energy room, they were quickly found out by the Captain Phasma, who had to be the most intimidating person she'd ever seen. She thought of attacking, but as she looked to the man, he gave her a subtle head shake as if to say "don't do it." So, she obeyed and they were all taken away and separated.

"Great, am I going into another cell? I'm getting really tired of those." The woman said to the stormtroopers dragging her away.

"Shut up rebel scum," a trooper said as he kicked her in the shin.

Just when she thought she was about to meet her end, an actual imperial officer interfered.

Stepping in, he spat at the trooper, "Hux wants her."

"I can be polite," she said with a smile, hoping the officer wouldn't drag her.

"Don't get smart. Just follow me," he ordered.

He lead her to the docking bay of the First Order ship. She passed hundreds of storm troopers. Then, she noticed the two resistance fighters on their knees. They didn't notice her. The officer lead her past them, and to her surprise past Hux as well. Instead, he took her to the ship they'd arrived on, _The Libertine_. The man was standing next to a stack of boxes being loaded onto the ship. He wasn't shackled, but rather, standing calmly next to the entrance of the ship. The officer let go of her.

"He's a traitor just like FN-2187," he said with disgust.

"218-what?" she asked. The officer pushed her shoulder.

"Move," he snapped.

Unsure of what was happening, she looked up at the man. He raised his hand and beckoned her forward. She went to him, but not without looking back a few times to make sure they weren't about to fire on her. They entered the ship. She felt a huge sense of relief. When she surveyed the man's face, he had that same somber look again.

He stared at the ground, waiting to see if she'd ask him what happened. But the truth was, she knew exactly what had happened, and she didn't really care. The boxes contained weapons and credits. He must have sold the resistance fighters out, to save his skin. They shouldn't have been so trusting or reckless. Her only question was, why did he include her in the deal? And what were they going to do now?


	3. Part 3: The Partnership

Now wasn't the time to discuss any of these things. She shrugged her shoulders to indicate she didn't care. He nodded his head in confirmation as they went to the front of the ship to leave.

"Where should we go?" he asked her.

"Somewhere far from here, and far from Canto Bight." Her easiness at this situation alarmed her. But then again, anything was better than Canto Bight.

"I've got just the place in mind." He punched in some coordinates. She thought it was weird how his stutter when in and out. When he seemed extremely serious, it was almost nonexistent.

"I need a drink." He murmured, leaving the room.

She headed back to her boss's daughter's room to change back into her clothes. It might be her room for the time being, unless the man decided to leave her somewhere. She put her energy sword away, wondering what would be next for her.

When she went to look for him, she found his workspace empty. The object he was building was missing too. He must have finished it. She eventually found him in the bar room. She'd never been allowed in here before. It was where her boss entertained important guests, and held a few meetings. The lights were out, save for the illumination the open door brought into the room.

He was surrounded by shadow. The single light shining on him, he didn't seem to react as he relaxed on the couch. In one hand was a glass of brown liquor, and in his other what looked like a small pen, which she guessed must have been the item he was building. He didn't look up when she entered.

Looking at him, she wondered if she'd interrupted some time he wanted to spend alone. When she began to turn to leave, she noticed him glance up at her. His eyes questioning, and soft. Feeling drawn to him, she sat down. He gulped the last of the brown liquor in his glass. He looked rough, rougher than usual at least. His hair was still a black mess. Leaning in, he looked intently at her face, his dark eyes conveying something which excited her. No, his eyes weren't dark, she realized. They were a light shade of hazel. They looked darker when he narrowed them, but his eyes were wide as he looked into hers. His breath smelled sweet from the drink. His presence felt intoxicating, as she felt trapped again in his gaze.

"When I look at you, I feel all my worries go away shadow-lady. How do you do that?" Her hand had been sitting on her leg, he put his hand over it. Her skin tingled as her breathing became slightly erratic. His touch sent a pleasant chill down her body. "I barely know you," he said with a soft chuckle, picking up her hand and examining it.

He was so certain in his advances. Normally with men, they're much more hesitant to even look at her because of how easily she could kill them. When he looked at her, _he knew_. He knew she felt something between them just as he did. He also knew she could kill him easily. She could see it in his eyes; it wasn't fear. It was a craving. He wanted her, and she wanted him. She only hoped he wasn't looking for someone to hit him, because she wasn't into that.

He took the pen from his hand and placed it on her bracer, "Are you a jedi?" he jested, looking at her arm.

She scoffed, "I have an energy sword, not a laser sword." The bracer snapped. At the same time, the door to the room automatically shut behind her, closing off the light and leaving them in total darkness. The man removed the bracer, and rubbed the spot where it had been. The woman felt her ears begin to ring, as the man continued to stroke her arm.

"That's what you were building," she said in a whisper.

"Mmhmm," he said faintly. His large hands, continued to caress her arm. They felt more intimate in the darkness. She didn't know where they might trail. She could hear his breathing….long deep breaths with a slight hoarseness to them, almost like a growl. The darkness had heightened her senses, making the moment seem to last forever. Her thoughts trailed in the way she hoped his hands would.

"Was I a part of that deal?" She asked. It was stupid question, but she wanted to hear the words from his lips.

"Of course," he said with a whisper. It made her heart race. He let go of her arm and leaned away from her. She tried to relax. "Do you feel more comfortable in the dark, shadow-lady?" he sounded amused.

"Why?" she asked him, ignoring his question.

Suddenly, he leaned in towards her. "You know why," he said with a low growl in her ear. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I'd like to hear a reason," she said. After a moment, he leaned back again in his seat, laughing quietly to himself. She felt a little embarrassed. This was a game they were playing and she couldn't tell when it ended…only that he was winning. He was teasing her, and she enjoyed it.

She was impetuous, and he made her feel so. When the woman wanted something, she normally went after it. But he was enjoying chase, and she didn't want to take that from him. For a change she enjoyed being sought after. They sat in the darkness a moment more. Then he went to the wall and turned the lights on. He was wearing a loose brown shirt she hadn't seen before, one perhaps that'd been on under his coat.

"Okay." He said as he poured himself another glass. "I've been t-t-thinking of hiring someone to protect me. I prefer to stay out of the fighting, and you seem to…" he pointed at her, "enjoy running into it."

His response took her aback. "You put me in the deal because you wanted me to be your bodyguard?"

"Oh, I want more things from you than that." He implied, locking eyes with her while taking a sip from his glass. She felt her cheeks turn red, as she clenched her thighs together instinctively. He noticed and smirked, turning to pour himself another glass. "But guarding seems like a good place to start," he said.

She tried to compose herself, and get her head back in the game. This was her future, but she also wanted to play too. She didn't want to tag along behind him. She stood up and gestured to his drink, which he happily gave to her. She took a big swig and coughed. It was stronger than what she was used too.

As he patted her on the back, he assured her, "I would pay you of course."

She looked at the empty glass, pondering what to say. She wanted a bit more freedom than having to watch over someone. He watched her with amusement.

She then turned to him, offering a hand and said, "I'd rather be your partner."

His eyes shined as she said this. He firmly grasped her hand, respecting the handshake. "Whatever you want-t-t, shadow lady."

She nodded her head, and made herself another drink. As she went to take a swig she thought better and instead gave it to the man. He took her glass and poured it into his. Other than the extreme attraction between them, there was another elephant in the room. Neither of them knew one another's names. She wondered how necessary it was to really know what his name was, and whether it'd make a difference. She had a name her boss had given her, and she didn't know what her birth name had been or if she'd ever been named anything at all. The thought of him calling her shadow-lady made her smile.

"What?" he said peering at her, trying to read her expression. He had been watching her. He hardly took his eyes off her. He looked at her as if she were some work of art he couldn't understand but was in marvel of. Usually, she'd mistrustful of a stare like that, but his eyes were genuine. She was beginning to get used to it.

"I was just thinking how insane all of this is. How different my life is right now in this moment." She grabbed his glass and took a gulp. He patted her on the back again, as she continued "Where I was yesterday, who I was...My new name. It's all changing, and I'm comfortable with it. I don't know why I am…it should worry me but it doesn't. I have the instinct to trust you, which makes no sense."

The man took his drink back from her, taking a final swig from it. He stared at the bottom of his glass.

"If you ever want to leave. I won't stop you. This ship can be _ours_." As he said _ours,_ he put his hand on her shoulder. She glanced at his hand, as a few of his fingers went to touch her hair. He had a knack for leaning the front of his head towards her, and almost seeming to peer through his raised eyebrows. It was a compelling way to look at someone, and it worked on her easily. She thought of kissing him, but she remembered she was trying to play the game.

"I don't understand you," she said plainly.

"Isn't that part of the fun?" he said, lightly touching her hair. She moved his hand away from her. He didn't seem offended. She went to the exit of the room.

"And I suppose I should call you Don't Join?" she meant it jokingly. She hadn't expected him to take her seriously.

"DJ." But he did.

He had a devilish look on his face. She could tell he liked when she resisted him. In that moment, looking at him she realized he was looking for power, and he wanted her to give it willingly to him. He wanted her to fold under him, like a lamb before a wolf. She could finally see it in his eyes. The craving he had behind them intimidated her. She wasn't sure if it was something she wanted, but she was intrigued. Maybe he needed her permission. She didn't want to resist too much, but she didn't want to throw herself at him. He still had to know she wanted him, but he needed to be certain. He didn't seem the type to act on assumed feelings. Maybe he wanted to wait for the right moment. She wasn't sure if she trusted him yet. At least that was what the woman told herself. Her thoughts raced, as she went back to her new room, and tried to sleep, unable to get his hungry eyes out of her mind. She imagined herself as a lamb caught in a wolf's terrible embrace, and found she enjoyed the bite.


	4. Part 4: The Understanding

Hours later she awoke. Some of the hums from the ship's engine were absent. It clued her in that they were grounded. She walked out of her room and into the main office. DJ was sitting, sipping something hot.

"Finally," he says as he sees her. "I didn't realize you needed that-t-t much sleep, shadow lady."

She sat beside him, peering into the hot drink he was sipping from. It smelled awful.

"You want some?" He asked. When she made a face, he made one back her looking rather indignant, "it-t-t's good for you, ya know?"

Reluctantly, she sipped some and immediately felt a jolt of energy through her. Though she was no longer groggy from sleep, she had an awful taste left in her mouth.

"Now, that you're awake, we can answer the et-t-ternal question," he gestured around him, "Do we want to keep this ship?"

She handed the weird drink back to him, and contemplated the answer. "Well," she began, "We should probably paint it, and I wouldn't mind throwing out or selling some of what's here."

"I'm not-t-t much of a seller, but I'm very good at throwing junk away." He raised his eyebrows, while taking another sip of his drink.

"Mm-hmm," she said skeptically. The way he spoke reminded her that he could do the same to her at any moment, no matter how earnest he seemed with her. Even if he had agreed to be partners, not trusting anyone had kept her alive so far. It was hard to let go of that instinct. Plus, that intensity in his eyes when he looked at her, it excited her but it was also dangerous A part of her was wary that she was being put under some spell, like as soon as he had her he'd be done with her. Maybe that was the past talking, but she still needed to be careful. He seemed to read her skepticism and looked a bit jilted. It was the first time she'd seen him pout.

"What I want to know," he said as he put his arm on the seat behind her, "is are you comfortable living in a place where you were," he paused, seeming to look for the word in the sky, "a-a-a captive?"

She leaned back on his arm, and took the drink away from him, taking another sip. The disgusting flavor was beginning to grow on her.

"The ship is fast," she said feeling the jolt of energy through her, "The design on the inside works. I wanna do whatever's easiest, and makes the most sense. Don't see the need in spending the money on another ship." He put his large hand over hers, taking the drink back from her.

"If that's what you wa-want, shadow-lady," he mused, gazing down into this cup of strange tea. His eyebrow slightly raised, he did not look convinced.

Leaning on his arm, she poked his forehead with her finger. He scoffed, looking at her as she assured him, "It really isn't a problem."

He took a deep breath, as his chest swelled with pride, "I like you more and more each day." Strange, how his two moods switched soft often between a quiet passion, or relaxed kookiness. He had the kooky look about him now. She couldn't take him seriously. Putting the drink down, he appeared a bit conflicted. He was thinking about hugging her, or blowing a raspberry in her face. She really didn't know.

Pretending to be undeterred, she politely grinned and stood up, "For now, can we get off this damn ship for a while? I wanna see what's out there, and I hope you've brought me somewhere interesting."

He conceded, as he stood, clasping his hands together. "I don't know how you'll react."

Her eyes widen as she worries where they've landed. He puts his coat on, and they leave to explore. As the doors to the ship open, they step off and onto what appears to be an extremely dense…smugglers island. It looked like a city built on top of its self. Rooms and houses, piled up on top of each other reaching the sky. It was grimy, yet filled with limelight and neon flashes. They had arrived early in the day judging by the single sun in this system, and the lack of people and ships in the port.

"It's a small world, and a small community of…discrete people. A place where you can sell or dump goods, weaponize your sh-sh-ship, modify it…all for the right price and people look the other way. But m-mainly, it's a port for collecting and selling bounties," he explained

"Is that what you do DJ?" she wondered, looking up at him to take a break from marveling at the city. He was leaning the top of his head forward again, causing his heavy eyes to darken and narrow. Yet, there was an excitement about him, as though he was happy to have her here.

"I'm just a thief, and a slicer. You however, may be good at bounty hunting," he said amusedly with a spring in his step.

"I will do whatever's necessary to survive," she said resolutely.

He laughed at her serious tone, poking her in the forehead as she had done to him, "There's no need to decide that now. We have credits, and a lot to sell, if that's what you want."

"What I want?" She said, "I-I don't know. Maybe to explore?"

He rubbed his chin, "That can also be done, but not before we pay tribute."

DJ lead her to the gates of the port, which were guarded by two aliens she had never seen before. She tried not to stare at them as DJ spoke in a foreign language. They opened the gates, as two more guards met them. DJ handed them each two gold coins. The woman held on tightly to the handle of her energy sword. The two guards didn't seem bothered by her weapon as they lead them forward to a large altar where another alien creature sat on a throne. The woman gaped at the display. The throne looked like melted gold. She could tell this was meant to wow and intimidate and it worked. DJ pulled out a compartment from his jacket pocket and presented it before the creature. There was a moment of nervous tension as the creature opened the contents and pulled out the many jewels inside. The creature let out a booming noise the woman guessed was approval, because DJ spoke in the alien language again and they were lead out and into the city. He handed her a small purse that had a distinct jingling sound at the bottom she recognized as credits.

DJ explained as they started to walk the streets of the small mega city, "The queen demands a portion of the spoils of being here. That's how wealthy this place is. Everyone who-who leaves makes a-a coin, everyone who lands makes a coin. Think of it as being in a private club, and you've just been added."

She frowned at him, "Your name is Don't Join."

"Think of it like permission to pass rather than recruitment." He frowned back at her, putting his hands in his pockets, "It isn't honest, but it's fair. You shouldn't have any t-t-trouble with the place." He yawned. His pace slowed, and she realized he had almost stopped walking.

She turned to face him, "You're not coming with me?"

"Someone had to be awake to guide the ship while you slept. Now that we're here, I can rest," he said, stretching his arms.

The woman felt panic surge through her. She put two and two together. DJ had just paid for her passage in this city, where he said she'd be able to make a living tracking bounties. He had also just given her a bag of currency. Her ears started ringing as she balled her fists at her sides.

DJ noticed this and promised, "I don't normally sleep for v-v-very long."

She looked up at him. Her gaze made him toss his head back in surprise. He was about to respond when she tugged him at the elbow, pulling him into a dark and empty alley nearby. She let go of him, as they stood facing each other, "Look at my face," she asked of him.

He stiffened his posture, and examined her. "You're scared," he replied.

"What do you think I'm scared of?" she sighed exasperatedly.

He crossed his arms, and looked at the ground. He answered reluctantly, "Scared that-that I'm trying to leave you here."

She nodded her head. "You have to admit this is slightly suspect," she insisted.

He took a moment, putting his hands in his pockets and pacing back and forth. "We're partners. I would not have done that un-unless I m-meant it." She felt bad. She knew he needed to sleep, and didn't want to stop him from doing so, but she couldn't ignore what her brain was telling her. If she was wrong, at least it'd be out in the open.

She nodded her head, "My gut tells me you're right. My brain warns me to be careful. I just want to know if you're going to leave." Her voice breaks, as he stops pacing to focus on her. "I want to believe you. I mean, I'm used to being on my own, but I'd rather know now. I can fend for myself."

He takes his hands out of his pockets, and places them on her cheeks, "Of course you can," he said trying to console her. His eyes are that shade of hazel again. She leans into the wall, as he closes the space between them.

He searches her face, and is saddened to see true fear in it. She wishes she could rely on her gut, but this was a lot to take in on such short notice. She looks away from him, as he tries to back away to give her space. His hands start to drop from her face. She finds herself gripping his coat, and pulling him back but still unable to make eye contact again. He obliges, and steps forward again. She puts her hands on tops of his, putting them back on her face as she closes her eyes. She takes in his warmth. She regrets getting him to look at her face; she doesn't want him to see her fear. She was trained to never show it.

"Look at my face," he pleads.

She doesn't respond, keeping her eyes closed and concentrating on his warmth instead. He takes her hand and puts it on his chest. "Please," he says. She feels his heart beating rapidly. She looks up at him.

"Look. What do you see?" he asks.

His eyes are soft. His thick eyebrows upturned. His lips slightly parted. His eyes dart back and forth from her eyes to her mouth, occasionally lingering on her lips. His breathing is matching hers.

She realizes in this moment, whatever is happening between them is about much more than something physical. He cares about her. Truly. She can't understand how it's possible in such a short time, but she's been feeling it in every action he takes, and every look he gives her. In this moment, she realizes she feels the same. The emotion overcomes her, as her training instinctively causes her to suppress it.

"I don't know what it is," she lies.

He gives her a tremulous smile, as it falters. He sees through her lie as soon as she speaks it.

"You do," he says softly. He caresses her cheek. Then taking a shallow breath, he slowly rubs his thumb over her bottom lip. It's rough against her soft mouth. She holds in a shudder. His gaze is welcoming, yet filled behind it something daring. "You know my desires. I could never hide from you."

She nods because it's true. She finally accepts it.

He heaved a sigh of relief, as he relaxed, putting his forehead against hers. Then, he drops his hand absentmindedly, but falters as he realizes it's at her neck. He brushes his fingers lightly around her neck, as they breathe in the same space. It feels as though every breathe she takes in is one he's just let out. It's hot and warms her nose.

His fingers roam to her to shoulder. Pushing her shirt out of the way, he lingers them over her bare skin, tracing them over her collarbone. As she sees him tilt his head to look at the definition of her shoulder. He puts a finger under her bra strap, slapping it to her skin. She giggles, and wraps her arms around his chest. His moves his hands around her neck and waist, as he pushes her into the wall again, hugging her. She enjoys the pressure. He smells like motor oil, and alcohol, and leather. It makes her smile into his chest, as she takes another deep breath of him. She grips him tighter. He moves his fingers along the back of her neck, almost making her knees shake. He lowers his head to her shoulder, breathing her in, as his lips brush up against her neck. Then, a noise from outside the alley causes him to pull from her to look. They drop their hands.

"Why would I leave when I still don't know what you taste like?" He says with his signature devilish grin.

They laugh nervously together. He puts a hand on his brow, "Need sleep. I got a bit-bit carried away." He says pinching his fingers together and squinting one eye.

She shrugs her shoulders, "Perhaps you didn't go far enough.

"I'll keep that in mind for next-t-t time." He says scratching the back of his head. He looks a bit embarrassed. It wasn't a look she expected to see.

He begins to leave, but then stops, "Actually I can st-tay."

"No, you're exhausted," she reassures him. He agrees. After giving her short directions and a briefing on the rules for the place, DJ left to _The Libertine_ though not without first warning her to "Only get into trouble, if you want to."


	5. Part 5: The Kiss

The rules for the place were a bit odd and undefined to her. 'All deals made must be kept. Don't brandish a weapon unless you plan to use it. Respect people's possessions unless they disrespect yours. Protecting yourself is allowed, as is punching belligerent drunks.'

"Are you sure that's a rule?" She had asked DJ.

"You will have t-t-trouble keeping them off you," he warned.

Something made her think DJ had brought her here to watch her beat up people. As she began exploring the community, she realized quickly that this place was even denser than first perceived. She was surrounded by shops that sold things she'd never heard of before. It was overwhelming.

At first, she had been hesitant to purchase anything. She kept telling herself she probably had what she needed on _The Libertine_. After a while, she realized why bother using someone else's belongings, when she could have her own. She could have excess, if that's she wanted. The folks she passed didn't eye her either. It was a mixed community, but DJ was right, there were drunks everywhere. They sold alcohol in every shop. But none of the drunks bothered her, as he had said they would. They seemed perfectly content to drink in corners, hoping to forget or remember or just laugh themselves silly. The place would have reminded her of Canto Bight if everyone didn't look so earnest in their actions. The only false presentation here perhaps was machismo. These were criminals, and they looked content.

After spending all day in the town exploring the shops, she headed back to _The Libertine_. She hadn't bought much, just a few clothes and a better pair of boots. As she headed back to the ship, the guards let her through with no issues. It was weird how they knew she belonged suddenly. The place must have had incredible security.

When entered the ship, she heard someone shuffling around. Assuming it was DJ, she decided to ignore it and put her items in her room. She made a pile of the items she'd be selling or trashing. A long haul was ahead of her considering the room contained a lot of what she considered vain or pointless frivolity. She didn't have much use for makeup, perfume, or fancy hats. But during this cleaning process she heard a loud bang, and a faint curse afterwards. It hadn't sounded like DJ.

Following the noise, she found a man digging around in a component panel of the ship. Responding immediately, she rushed over and kicked the man in the back of the head, yelling "Who the hell are you?"

He fell on his hands, hitting his head again on the floor. With speed, she sat on his back and grabbed his arms, pinning him. He didn't struggle, though he did yelp.

In the distance she heard someone yell, "No stop stop stop stop" then a pounding of feet towards her. Rounding the corner DJ appeared, soaking wet, and only wearing a worried expression and large towel around his lower half. His appearance caught her off guard. He looked especially good with the wet hair, not to mention his bare, broad chest. When he saw her sitting on top of this now whimpering man, he burst into laughter.

"Let Vitrus go. He looks s-s-so pathetic."

The woman glanced down at the man, who had begun crying. Looking back at DJ and then the man, and then back at DJ again, she slowly rose.

She felt a little sorry for the man. "Sorry, Vitrus," she muttered.

She looked over to DJ for an explanation. He responded, "He's looking for a tracking device."

The woman stared down at the man disapprovingly. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at DJ, "Isn't that something you should be good at finding?"

DJ put his hand on his chest gesturing to himself rather dramatically, "I was busy." Feigning outrage, he turned on his heel and walked away, as she heard him complain, "Now you've interrupted b-b-both my shower and my sleep, shadow lady."

Vitrus wiped his eyes and left the room in a huff as well. For a second she stood there, wondering if she had truly upset DJ. Now that she thought about it, he _had_ been trying sleep when they'd first met. Feeling a little guilty, and also unable to get the image of DJ in a towel out of her head, she decided to follow him.

"What's this?" He said amusedly. "The shadow lady follows me, in my stat-t-te of undress?" He really must have been in the middle of a shower because with every step he left a puddle in the hallway.

"I just want to know if there's anyone else I need to be wary of on this ship," she asked sarcastically, pretending she hadn't been watching his lower half to see if the towel would fall. He stopped suddenly, and she almost ran into him.

He quickly turned, lowering his face to her. "Only me" he warned, his voice low. The hungry look in his eye startled her, and she jumped back. She crossed her arms to prevent herself from grabbing him, and gave him a scowl.

After watching her for a moment, he smirked, proud that he had caught her off guard. "You look angry when you're excited," he smiled approvingly.

He walked into his room looking smug. Frustrated and embarrassed, she rubbed her face in her hands. If she followed him in, she might really try to take that towel off.

"How can he tell anyway…I always look angry," she mumbled to herself, still a little bitter about easily he saw through her. Then, again if he was less perceptive, this game of theirs would have been much less fun.

From inside the room, he whistled a disjointed song. It was whimsical, and out of tune. He stopped and she heard strange noise she couldn't place. Out of curiosity, she peeked in. DJ stood in the doorway of the bathroom, in front of a ridiculously large mirror. He had changed into a gray shirt, and a pair of black boxer briefs. She watched as he put something on his face. Then, he hovered his hand over a small dispenser, and more of the shaving cream came out. That had been what the noise was. He glanced over at her.

"How do you like it-t-t?" he said.

She walked into the room. It looked completely redone. A lot of the weird décor her old boss had was gone. The bed caught her eye in particular because, the morosely dark covers had been replaced with white sheets, and a large blue quilt. She'd seen a shop selling similar homemade quilts in town.

She scoffed, smirking and feeling the quilt in her hand, "I was going to buy one like this."

"Hmmm," she heard him grunt as he put more shaving cream on his face.

He didn't seem to notice her, as she walked over. She leaned on the door frame to the bathroom, watching him continue to apply shaving cream to his face. He picked up an oddly assembled razor and started to shave. After a few strokes, she realized he must have made the razor handle himself.

After he wiped his face with a towel, her heart skipped a beat. His jaw line looked more defined without the facial hair. His realized his eyes still had those dark circles under them, which must mean they were always there, even when fully rested. He slapped his face with aftershave. She tried to ignore the impulse to feel how smooth his cheek was, but she couldn't resist.

DJ had begun to put away the shaving cream, when she hesitantly raised her hand to his face. Her palm was almost to her cheek when he grabbed it fiercely, and with a vigor that shocked her. He did this out of the corner of his eye, and continued to stare ahead him. His eyes narrowed.

He turned to her very slowly, looking down at her wide-eyed face. His heavy eyes, weighted by those thick eyebrows, scowled at her. The look sent a chill through her, but she stood her ground.

His gaze drifted to her hand. He brought it away from his face, and traced his fingers in her palm. When he looked back up at her, his expression had softened. She tried to remind herself to breathe as she watched him. He loosened his grip, and lead her hand to his lips. He gently kissed the inside of it. Her body tensed as she imagined his lips on her. The passion welling up inside of her was soon to spill. She bit her lip, hoping to contain it.

His eyes caught her biting her lip, and they lingered there for a moment.

He moved her hand to his cheek, and leaned into it like it were a soft pillow. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He looked very at peace. She hadn't expected a roguish man like DJ to be so intimate. She smiled, as she caressed his cheek. It felt like she was petting a wild animal. As if a she had caught a wolf relaxing in the shade and dared to wrap her fingers in its fur. At any moment, he might spring up and bite her.

His chest rose and fell in deep breaths. Transfixed by the movement, she placed a palm on it. He responded to her touch immediately and his eyes bolted open. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close to him. Her heart jumped to her throat and she felt a rush nervous energy through her.

"I should have kissed you in the jail cell," he said in a hushed tone. His seductive eyes darted from her eyes to her lips and lingered there. She felt like he was draining her of everything, as she felt so weak in his arms…like a wounded bird in the paw of a lion. Her gripped her tighter again, as his presence encompassed her. He put a finger on her jaw and she tilted her head back, looking up at him in wonder.

"I was covered in…" she said weakly.

"D-d-doesn't matter," he said cutting her off, and pressing his lips to her. It hit her like a plunge into cold water. Gentle at first, he backed away, gazing briefly into her eyes

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, and she shivered. He groaned lightly, and kissed her again, but with a desire which felt closer to hunger. He kissed her with a fervency that made her cling to him like he was the only solid thing in this swaying, dizzying world. It was a jolt of electricity to her nerves, and it evoked a longing within her she didn't realize was capable. His fingers dug into her skin. His tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands roamed and grabbed. She tried to keep up, softly pulling his hair, imagining it like the wolf in the shade. But as his intensity increased, he turned animalistic and she felt overpowered in the best way.

Every kiss she'd had before this one had been wrong. When DJ kissed her, the world faded away and there was only him. His aftershave, his shampoo and that extra smell that had just _been_ _him_. It was all she wanted to focus on. It was more than a primal desire. The moment his lips touched hers, her brain rewired itself. Her wanted nothing else more than to melt into him.

His hands went under the back of her shirt. They felt rough against her smooth skin. He fought to not run them up the front and onto her chest. So, he backed away, running his hand instead in her hair. But he couldn't keep away. He bent down and kissed her neck, as a soft moan escaped her lips. The moan instinctively made him tighten the grip on her hair, pulling it down with force. She let out a sharp inhale and he let go of her.

"I should stop now," he said. He face looked flushed as he licked his lips.

"Let's spread out the fun," she said with a grin.

He chuckled, and pulled her in and they embraced. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt happy. But with his arms around her, and her face buried in his chest, she didn't have a single care. They stayed like this for a while. A few times, DJ tried to pull away, but the woman wasn't ready to let go yet, and ultimately, she was stronger than him. He relinquished, chuckling and holding on her still.

After a while, the woman felt a pain in her side and let go of him. It had been from where he grabbed. She pulled the shirt up, and there were red marks. She rubbed it gently.

He put his hand in her hair again, looking concerned, "I was too rough."

"I'll tell you if you're too rough," she said with an intoxicated smile. She felt drunk. He sighed, putting her face in his hands for another kiss. He bit her bottom lip.

"If you keep doing that, we may stay in this bedroom the rest of the night," she warned him.

He put his hands in the air, giving her that devilish grin again. With his hands in the air, something caught her eye. Something that had been poking her while they were kissing, but she had been too oversaturated until now to notice. Her eye drawn to it, she realized she needed to make herself look away. Feeling a bit lightheaded, she stumbled away from him.

"I should probably…." she said trying to appear nonchalant, and trying to avoid staring downwards. It didn't work, as she paused and gaped at him. "…go."

DJ cocked his head, and then looked down at himself. He gave her a lazy smile, "P-p-probably a good idea, shadow-lady."

Closing the door behind her in her room, she felt her head pounding. She couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more, but the idea of spreading out the fun as she had said to him earlier seemed too good. It took everything in her to not barge back into his room. Instead, she decided working on something boring like the room for a few hours would distract her enough.


	6. Part 6: The Bar Fight

The woman found a strange doodad hidden in the back of the closet while she cleaned. Maybe it was a gun, maybe it was some sort of personal interface. She couldn't tell. It was triangle shaped, and made odd beeping noises when she tried to open it. Tightly secured and strange, it seemed like something DJ might enjoying investigating. Carrying it with her, she left to find him.

He was lackadaisically sitting with his legs crossed on the office couch. A relaxed expression on his face, his eternally half-closed eyes stared into the cup he held. He looked lost in a daze as he took a sip. His black disheveled hair poked out from under his cap. When she entered the room, his eyes lit up with a lovely shade of hazel.

She walked over and handed him the triangle. "I have another mystery for you."

He looked over it triangle doubtfully. Mistaking her sincerity for teasing, he sarcastically replied, "You brought me a g-g-gift…so thoughtful." Putting his drink down, he tilted his head unsure of what it was supposed to be. To be fair, it did look ridiculous.

"I thought you might know what it is, or enjoy trying to figure out what it is," she explained.

When he looked up at her, he saw she was being serious which made him smile. He threw an arm around her neck, and pulled her down to sit beside him. "What an interesting th-th-thing," he said to himself.

He held the triangle to the light and under his scrutinizing gaze. After a moment, he removed his arm from around the woman and bent down. It didn't seem like he could get his face close enough to the mysterious object as it practically touched his nose. His fingers ran over its edges. Then he frowned, as though it had personally caused offense. It had begun to frustrate him, as his focused face turned to one of irritation.

Eventually he sat back and put the triangle on the table in front of him. "It's hard to f-f-f-focus with you beside me."

"Oh, should I back away?" she asked earnestly. She had practically been hovering over him to watch his attempt at opening the triangle.

He put his hand on her leg, "No-no. I am just d-d-distracted." He lowered his gaze to her thighs. She wondered if DJ had finally begun to lose control of himself around her. Perhaps, they were finally on even footing. Feeling the tension quickly build, she straightened her posture in an appearance to look composed. "You should probably remove that hand," she said, trying to make her voice convey assurance. It hadn't worked. He could always see through her easily.

He grinned and removed his hand. Grabbing his coat, he stood, "The cant-t-tina has the best fights at night, and the sun is setting."

She wasn't sure what he had been trying to tell her until he held out his hand for her to take. "Oh," she blurted. It was a simple gesture, yet she overthought its significance. She blinked, staring at his hand. She couldn't get the word _fights_ out of her head, until she looked up at him. DJ had twinkle in his eye that practically blinded her. He seemed most amused when he could make her just a little uncomfortable. She tried to formulate a sentence as he pulled on a few strands of her hair, but she just kept blinking and mouthing wordlessly at him. She was unable to focus clearly with him just touching her hair. She brushed his hand away so she could think. "I'll have to meet you there. Got some stuff to put away."

"You're not going to leave me are you?" he said with a wink.

She gave him a humorless smile, "I would but I don't know how to pilot a ship."

He chuckled, holding his heart in his hand, "Then, I have n-n-nothing to worry about."

He had started to leave, when he suddenly paused. "It's very cold here at night," he said. He turned back to her, looking perplexed as though he were second guessing himself. With DJ, it was hard to tell at any minute what he might do. He could kiss her, or he might shrug his shoulders and leave with no explanation. After he stared at the ground for a moment, he hesitantly began to take his coat off.

She scoffed when she realized what he was doing. He must have considered the need to be chivalrous to her by giving her his coat. He glanced up at her a few times as though he was waiting for her to stop him. But this act of false sincerity was amusing her. She smiled and as he pretended to be a gentlemen. When he had almost taken his coat off, she held her hand up and said, "No need."

He nodded his head and looked relieved to be keeping his coat on. She liked that DJ was selfish, at least he was honest about it. She knew he needed the coat more than she did. She was trained to withstand the winter's chill. He looked like someone accustomed to sleeping in the cold, and she didn't want to take his coat of tricks from him…not that he would have given it to her.

"I will be-be the one with the best seat, an empt-t-ty chair beside me, and a bottle of wine… waiting," he gave her a promising smile. She looked at him rather skeptically, as she wondered if this was DJ's attempt at being romantic. It was weird when it looked like he cared about something. It made her a little wary for the rest of the night.

After he left, she huffed and crossed her arms. "Fights," she said to herself, "Of course someone who doesn't fight loves to watch them." Were bar fights his idea of a good time? She couldn't decide if she preferred the cheesy wine bottle-toting version of DJ or the one who wanted to watch her get into fights. Either way, she knew she was up for something strange.

She finished cleaning the room, and put the rest of her new clothes in the closet. Looking at them, she wondered what to wear. On one hand, she could choose something practical in case a fight broke out. Then again, she'd been practical her entire life. DJ said there would be wine, so maybe this was a good opportunity to wear the dress she purchased that day.

When she put the dress on, it cut just above her knees. Her breasts made it an inch shorter than she planned, which irritated her. She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. The dress fit, but she didn't look like _her_. He stout posture didn't fit the elegance of someone who wore a dress. She worried that her shoulders were too broad, her arms too muscular, her legs too scarred. Her stomach growled, halting her indecision. "Oh, well," she said to herself. Food was more important.

She'd saved a coat to wear for the chill. When she put it on, she felt weird in that as well. Dresses weren't something she was ever allowed to wear, neither were fancy black coats like the one she had on. After much deliberation, she left the energy sword behind in her closet, and headed out.

The cantina he had referenced was easy to find. She could hear punching from the streets. It was called Hearth's Fire, and as she entered she saw a roaring fire at the center of the place. In the back was seated a long bar, and on the sides, large windows where the seaside could be seen. There were side rooms as well, guarded by rope and some typical large ruffians. Hearth's Fire seemed like an old establishment the city had built itself around. There was a worn-in comfort to the place. She couldn't even make out much if any technology in the joint. This was odd, considering DJ had picked the place out. Besides the lovely design, Hearth's Fire was full of drunks, many of whom were in shouting matches. She scanned the place, but couldn't find DJ.

Focusing on some of the drunken yelling, she had heard his voice faintly in the crowd. DJ was at the bar and surrounded by at least 4 large men, who all had been yelling incoherently at him. She decided not to interfere, and instead decided attempt listening in on conversation. From what she could tell, DJ had stolen something from them and he was playing coy.

"You cheated me out of that card game, you bastard," a man with an eye patch said to DJ.

DJ rubbed his temples, and then his eyes, "You're a sore loser, T-T-Til."

One of the men bent down to DJ's face, and mocked him by imitating his stutter.

DJ replied by exaggerating his stutter, "Low-low-low blow-blow-blow." The woman tried to stifle her laughter as she hid behind Til. She hoped this would prove entertaining.

"I was supposed to win that match," Til yelled at DJ.

"Then, _why_ d-did you lose?" DJ said with a devious look in his eye.

"He lost because you cheated. Til was supposed to win," another cohort piped in.

"You-you keep saying _supposed_ ," DJ rubbed his eyes again.

"Well yeah because Til's got a modified deck," one of the men said gesturing to Til. Til hit the man in the chest.

This was the admission DJ had been looking for. With a smug grin he chided, "It was easy t-t-to override really."

Til grabbed DJ by the collar and pulled him out of his seat. The woman realized what was happening, and balled her fist as her temper flared. She kicked the back of Til's legs, causing him to buckle and fall to his knees. Looking up at her with confusion in his eyes, she slapped him hard across the face. The boom rang out in the bar, as the woman felt the eyes of the bar turn to her. DJ casually walked to the bar counter, trying to give her some space.

"Don't you fucking touch him," she warned. Til bewilderly looked her up and down and the woman remembered she was in a dress. Something clicked in his head as he screamed and tried to rise to attack her. But she was too quick and too comfortable fighting to allow an attack from him. The woman kicked him under the chin. His body rag dolled as he fell to the floor. He'd been knocked out instantly. That'd probably be the only easy shot she'd have in this fight.

She turned to DJ, and gestured to her outfit. "You know, this is the first time I've worn a dress."

He pursed his lips in approval, seeming mildly impressed. He hadn't panicked a single second during this conflict. "I d-d-didn't realize you had a dress," he looked at her quizzically, then raised his eyebrows, "I g-g-got the bottle of wine!"

He gave her a cheesy grin, proudly holding the wine bottle in the air like it was a gold medal. She rolled her eyes, and took her coat off, throwing it towards him. Failing at catching it in the air, it fell over his face. The rest of Til's friends attacked her.

He removed the coat from over his eyes. Sitting on the counter of the bar he sighed dreamily, "I love watching her save me-me." The bartender did not look amused.

She punched one of the men in the gut, then kneed him in the face. "I knew that was why you wanted to come here," she said pointing to DJ suddenly. He shrugged his shoulders unbothered by her offense.

"It's nice to feel like the damsel. Do you mind?" he asked her. She kicked a man in DJ's direction angrily. DJ lifted his legs, allowing the man to fly past him. He turned to look back at her, clearly insulted by her attempt to hit him with another man's body. "You did that on purpose!" he said accusing her with a finger.

DJ's aloofness still surprised her. He was shady and strange. Despite the slight annoyance and adrenaline flowing through her, she hoped she would never tire of it. He was also endlessly charming, and she enjoyed every second of it. They locked eyes as he smirked knowingly. It was a revelation which told her he was toying with her. Even amidst a fight, DJ could make her head spin with a single look.

Clearing out her immediate space, she found the room to walk over to him. Grabbing him by the shirt abruptly, she pulled him foward and kissed him. When she backed away, he was beaming. She'd managed to take him by surprise. Then, she poked him on the forehead and got back to the fight. He relaxed, casually snacking on whatever weird snack was sitting on the bar for customers, and cheered her on. With every punch or kick she landed, he threw some of what he'd been eating at the attackers.

The crowd of Hearth's Fire had turned to her fight, joining with DJ as they cheered or booed her. The woman had never been very smart, or very driven, but she was good at fighting. She could take pride in that at least.

She kicked two more into the crowd, and knocked out another. She was losing track of who had been in Til's gang, as it seemed random people were joining to try and take her down. A lady lunged at her with a knife.

"Am I allowed to stab her back?" She yelled to DJ as she avoided the slices of the knife.

"No blood in the bar," the bartender chastised her.

"Fair enough," she replied, kneeing the lady in the stomach and taking the knife from her.

One of the men she'd kicked away appeared suddenly behind her. He picked her up by the waist and hoisted her in the air so that he could drop her onto a table. She elbowed him in the face, and he dropped her. She landed and grabbed the nearest object. Bringing a half-filled bottle across the man's face, it broke and cut her finger. "That was dumb," she said to herself, before then kicking the man away again.

She heard a mixture of groans and cheers as the blood poured from the cut. She put her finger in her mouth, and checked to see what was going on. Somehow, DJ had gotten his hands on a piece of chalk and had started writing on the overhead of the bar. Though he may have initially been cheering, his yells had turned to the growing crowd around him. DJ had started a betting pool revolving and people were placing bets. Lots of them.

A basis of some of the bets had been whether someone would draw her blood. DJ argued with a few of the members of the bar. He insisted that it didn't count because she had cut herself.

"He definitely planned this," she muttered, sucking on her bloody finger.

She looked around, still hunkered down watching to see if anyone else wanted to fight her. Finally, she'd run out of people to punch. The bodies of a few knocked out assholes were beneath her feet. She kicked them away so she could find a place at the bar.

DJ had a small interface pulled up. It looked like he was transferring credits, because his eyes practically had dollar signs in them. She put her head down on the bar to rest and calm her nerves. After dealing and arguing with a lot of the patrons, he sat beside her.

When she sat up, DJ had an odd stone and some ointment in front of him. He took her hands in his and applied the ointment to her knuckles. The pain subsided. Then, he placed the cooling stone over them and pain went away immediately.

"May I see th-that knife?" he asked. She stabbed the knife in the bar. It came within a centimeter of one of his fingers, but he didn't flinch. Instead he smiled, and pulled it from the wood. He cut a piece of his shirt off. Then, he put ointment on her wound and wrapped it with the fabric.

He treated her hands like they were delicate and prone to breaking as he placed them in her lap carefully. It was a silly gesture considering she'd just used them to break a couple of jaws, but the sentiment touched her. DJ had used her to make some money, but he cared about her wellbeing. It was impossible to stay upset with him for long.

He tilted his head looking down at her hands, "When we leave, your wounds will be g-gone."

She was mildly impressed. "This place takes its fighting seriously."

"Good show," said the bartender. He came over, and took the ointment and stone, putting it back behind the counter.

"They were probably all drunk anyway," she said. DJ had been looking over the blade, when she took the knife from his hand and handed it handle first to the bartender. "You can have this if you want it."

The bartender put a glass he'd been cleaning down, and took it from her. He eyed DJ with a smirk, and said "I'll have your table ready soon."

"I didn't want the knife anyway," DJ said pretending like he hadn't been bothered. She could tell he was a little peeved. He put his chin in his hand, peering over at her. "They have the best fights," he said with a grin. The woman crossed her arms, not impressed.

He shrugged his shoulders, "They do."

"You got into that argument on purpose," she asserted.

He squeezed his fore finger and thumb together and squinted one eye, "A-a little bit. Are you upset?"

"Depends on how much richer _we_ are."

" _We_ can buy another ship…" he pulled out a card from his pocket, "Act-act-actually, we won another ship." He said tossing the card to her, with a chuckle. She held the card in her hand, perplexed.

The card had a picture of a clunker of a ship. When she turned it over it had a bunch of specs on it she didn't understand.

She glanced at DJ. There was a dark humor in her eye that made him tilt his head worriedly. She turned around on the bar and readied a throw, aiming the card across the bar. "We don't need another damn ship," she said and threw it. It hit someone in the back of the head, and she turned back around. DJ made an 'oh well' face and picked his teeth with one of his lock picks.

"At least tell me what happened," she said.

"Well," he started putting the pick away, "Wanted to get table to look at the s-s-sea...but they were all full. Big g-guy offered his table over a friendly card game. Only, I didn't trust Til to be so friendly so I balanced his deck." She put her head in her hands, which made him exclaim, "I w-w-won fairly okay."

"Oh _of course you did_ ," she patronized.

He chuckled. "They just happen to n-notice I fumbled with the deck. They were the ones cheating, I w-wanted the game to be fair." He nodded his head emphatically, insisting he'd been telling the truth.

"Did they notice or did you _make_ them notice?" The woman already knew the answer.

"Hehe," he said scratching his head. Taking this as confirmation of DJ's predictable deceit, she giggled. Slowly the giggle transformed into a deep, hearty laugh. It was a laugh that had been welling up within her since she and DJ met. It was the kind of laugh that makes someone grab their belly and cry… and it was contagious. The more she laughed, the more DJ laughed with her. Soon, they were two fools causing a ruckus without even understanding why. The woman felt relief. She was relaxed. She was happy, and when she looked at DJ…he looked happy too.


	7. Part 7: The Anticipation

As their laughter died down, DJ's eyes traced down to her bare legs. Remembering she was in the dress, she tugged at her skirt and crossed her legs. He tilted his forehead forward, peering at her through his thick eyebrows. The clatter of the bar muffled when she caught his gaze and the world around them blurred. Her thoughts tapered, dwindling until all could she knew were his eyes on her. His broodingly handsome face easily took her breath away.

"Like the dress," he said seductively. A bit of his hair fell to his face, as his eyes locked onto her legs again. She tried to cover her mouth as she an embarrassed smile formed on her lips. But it was too late, he had noticed. He traced his finger over a scar on her knee, giving her goosebumps. She brushed his hand away, and looked to see if anyone was watching. Giving her that signature grin, he folded his arms, cunningly looking at her from the corner of his heavy eye.

Suddenly the bartender announced their table was ready, which took them both out of their daze. He lead them to a bench facing away from a seaside window. She didn't think that made much sense considering the point of the nice seating was to have a view of the ocean. Confused, she sat on the bench. As soon as DJ sat beside her, the bench swerved around and they were behind a table inside their own private dining room. There was a large window on the other side of the table showcasing a beautiful view of the ocean. Little balls of soft light floated above the water. She could see the waves rise and crash, even in the dark. "Wow," she marveled.

Feeling DJ's eye on her, she turned to see him leaning on his hand and watching her. He stared at her with the same look in his eyes as the time he'd first seen her fight on Canto Bight. There had been a respect behind his gaze, but something else she hadn't been able to figure out then. Looking at him now, she could see what it was easily.

"Is this some sort of kink for you?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Watching you b-b-beat people up? If it is, it's new," he admitted. He took a deep breath, as his demeanor shifted and he changed the subject. "Usually here by myself." He folded his arms and leaned on the table, looking out across the waves. "It's n-n-nice to have company."

The woman tried to read the expression on his face. His eyes looked sort of misty like someone lost in a day dream. Perhaps DJ was content, as though this night had gone exactly as planned and he wanted for nothing. She got the feeling this didn't happen a lot. "You come here often?" she asked.

He continued to stare ahead. "Steal from Canto Bight. C-come here. Spend all the credits. Go back to d-d-do it all again."

Feeling a bit saddened, she muttered, "That's a vicious circle."

She hoped he hadn't planned return to Canto Bight. She never wanted to see that place again, and she wasn't keen on the idea of leaving him. However, it was his life and they'd only just met. If he wanted to go back, she wouldn't try stop him. She just wasn't sure if she'd follow.

He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the wine bottle. Opening it, he poured them two glasses. He raised his in the air. When he noticed she hadn't done the same, he nodded his head, gesturing towards it. She realized what he was implying and raised her glass as well.

He cleared his throat. "Got plenty of credits. P-place to shower. Warm bed...could be warmer. Canto Bight is poison. Th-th-thought I had the antidote. I was wrong. You-you were the incentive I needed to leave. I'll n-never go back," and he took a sip.

Shocked, she put her glass down. "What?"

He looked surprised and repeated her, "What?" Taking another sip, he ignored her questioning gaze. He relaxed in his seat looking out the window. "It-t's bad luck not to toast together, ya know?"

Glowering at him, she pursed her lips and frowned. He gave her a sly smirk. DJ enjoyed being coy, especially because it irritated her.

She put her hand over his glass. He slowly lowered it to the table. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent in the hazy light of Hearth's Fire. When he widened them long enough, their hazel shade contrasted brilliantly against his swarthy complexion. The rest of the time, his calm and uncaring attitude meant his gaze was so often heavy lidded and canopied by his untamed black eyebrows. His eyes appeared even darker when he fixed his commanding gaze on something. And unless a direct light was shining in them, they appeared as they did in that moment...two black holes that seemed to so often, suck her in immediately.

She held his gaze, hoping he'd kiss her. His fiery eyes danced over her face, and he seemed to consider it. Yet, he stayed frozen, refusing to move. Instead he tilted his head, smirking and amused by her desire. Realizing she'd lost, she gave a helpless grin and took a sip from her glass. DJ took a smug sip from his wine and then took his hat off, placing it on the table.

Their little moment was over almost as soon as it had begun.

He sat forward, attempting to take the coat off as well. He struggled a little because of the tight space between the bench and the table. Seeing this, she grabbed his coat sleeve with an attempt to help. In the end, she had to pull it out from under him because he'd been sitting on the back of it. When she yanked it, DJ slipped out and fell under the table. She laughed, holding the coat in her lap.

"Ooh, there's a n-nice view down here," he said laughing with her, and putting a hand on her leg. She kicked him and he climbed back into his seat. He was truly unflappable, not showing the slightest hint of embarrassment. She respected him even more for it.

She examined his coat. It was heavier than she assumed it'd be. DJ noticed her looking over it. He opened a flap on the sleeve for her to see, and inside were a series of metal pins. Gauging her interest, he showed her a multitude of secret compartments in the coat. Each time she thought he had revealed the last… with a bit of flair, he'd revel another.

She was ignorant in the way slicers worked. Training for 14 hours a day hitting hard surfaces didn't exactly give her much room to learn anything else. So, she didn't understand the intricacies of technology or thievery. His tools, tricks, and treasures fascinated her. She must have asked a dozen questions, but he never spoke down or teased her ignorance. On the contrary, he explained what several of his devices did with a great fervor. He enjoyed demystifying it for her, and she guessed he _also_ enjoyed boasting about how good he was at stealing.

DJ put his chin in his hand, his heavy eyes watched as she picked up his skeleton key, running her finger over the surface. The liquid metal changed and adapted around her finger with ease. "You look at me like I'm a m-magician. M-m-most don't care to understand what I do, or why. Th-they only see a thief."

"Do you treat it like an art form or something?" she teased. She handed him the skeleton key. He grabbed it, and their fingers brushed together. She hoped her face wasn't turning red, but he didn't seem to notice. Something about the way she phrased her question made him huff, as if he remembered an unpleasant memory.

"The m-master codebreaker certainly thinks _he_ does," he said. She didn't get the impression he had been bothered by her teasing, just a little embarrassed that she had inadvertently compared him to this Codebreaker fellow.

"Who's that?" she wondered.

DJ made a noise which could only be described as disgust. He shook his hand in the air as if he was trying to shush the thought of Master Codebreaker away. "A political shoplifter. Man's never s-s-seen a lock pick in his life." DJ practically glowered at the ocean as if he were trying to set it on fire with his eyes. She hadn't seen him angry before.

"Wow, you really hate this guy, huh?" she asked.

He slowly shook his head, "I condemn him. He doesn't know what it means to be forced to do whatever it takes to live comfortably, bathe regularly, and eat. So-so to him it's only about showing off… creating a title. He's a c-c-clown."

She put a hand on his shoulder. He twitched but relaxed some of his stiff posture. She tried to think of something to comfort him, "I bet you're way better than him at…whatever it is…you slicer types do." She patted his back. He brushed her hand away with a scoff. But it had worked, his demeanor lightened and he looked more like the old DJ.

Putting her hands in her lap, she surmised "If people see you as a thief, they must see me as a murderer." She had said it to try and make him feel better, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth she realized how true they were.

DJ looked up at her, his expression unreadable. He ran his fingers through her hair. She suppressed the urge to lean into his hand. She became more aware of how enclosed the space they were sitting in was, at how their knees were touching, her elbow brushing against him, his fingers occasionally brushing against her neck. She looked away, "That's what you said to me in the jail cell, that I was going around murdering people. You were right."

He took a deep breath, relaxing away from her. "I only saw someone trying to survive," he picked his finger nail, "just like me." They locked eyes, "also someone I could make some money off." He said with a grin.

"I believe you," she replied with a sardonic smile.

"I like being a th-thief. Do you like being a murderer?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah-but I don't _always_ murder." DJ looked at her skeptically. She modified her statement, "I mean _sometimes_ I try to not murder." He still looked doubtful. She paused, thinking back to when she killed her cellmate just because he irritated her. "Well, I guess it's _useful,"_ she admitted.

"You're the nicest murderer I've ever met." He patted her on the back just as she had done to him.

She shook her head as if to admit 'oh well' and then stared out to the ocean. DJ paused looking at her for a moment then turned his gaze back to the sea as well.

The rolling movement of the water transfixed her. She imagined herself lost in its waves…rocking in its current. As she fantasized, the waves transformed in her mind. They reminded her of bedsheets. In a moment, she was no longer fighting to stay above the water, but choosing to stay beneath it and tumble. Just when she began to wonder if she were alone, DJ spoke up and startled her.

"Did a hard reset for the ship. No tracking device either. St-stupid man." She glanced over and saw him fiddling with the napkin on the table, "It just needs a f-f-few finishing touches, and then…."

"And then…what," she mumbled to herself, lost in thought.

Putting an arm around her, he reassured her, "Plenty of time to f-figure that out." The sudden touch of his arm around her caused her to come out of her daze. DJ had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He moved his hand down to her hips, pulling her into him, inches from his face. Feeling entranced, she took a deep breath hoping to steady herself. He chuckled and increased his tight hold on her. But then he relaxed as his alluring gaze fell southward on her body. She felt a mild panic as he leaned down and rested his head in the crook of her neck. His breath felt hot against her cold skin. For a moment she stiffened, unsure of what he planned to do. When she realized he intended to stay put and calm, she relaxed.

Somehow, he still smelled like motor oil and leather. She picked up her glass and continued to drink, as DJ ignored his, deciding to instead hold on to her. He was so easy going about everything. They'd just met a day ago, yet she felt herself permanently attached to him.

When the waiter finally arrived, the pair were still like this. He seemed unfazed by it, immediately asking what they wanted to eat.

The woman choked on her words, trying to think of something to order, but DJ rose with his finger in the air. He kept saying the word 'special' as in 'give me the special.' She gathered it meant something that had to do with what was available for the day. A short time later, the waiter came back with 4 plates of food. She felt gluttonous just looking at it.

"What have you done?" she exclaimed.

"Bet they f-f-fed you slop on Canto Bight. It's time for us to feast," he said picking up his fork.

Just when she thought they couldn't fit any more food on the table, the waiter found room to slide in another two plates. In disbelief, the woman uttered, "We can't possibly eat all of this."

"What does it matter? Besides," he said putting his hand on her thigh and gripping tightly, "You're going to need the energy for later."

Looking down at his hand, she immediately recanted, "In that case, I'll have one of everything on the menu."

He gave her a wide smile and they began to eat. When DJ saw she hadn't tried something he liked, he'd put it on her plate and insist she eat it. At first it didn't bother her, but the problem was DJ… liked _all_ the food.

"Try this," he said of about eight different things. He'd throw it onto her plate even if she was already eating something else. Then, he'd watch her to make sure she took a bite from it. He started to get on her nerves.

"I can't eat anymore," she pleaded with him. Yet, he'd put the food on her plate regardless. After a while, she had to hit his hand to keep him from adding more food, as he conceded. Being a fighter, her boss made sure to feed her plenty of calories, but it never tasted good. This food was delicious. Still, she didn't want to fill her belly to the point of sluggishness.

DJ on the other hand was a bottomless pit. He made sure to take a bite from every plate on the table. She wondered if he wasn't used to eating his fill on Canto Bight. When she'd first met him, he looked as though he'd been living without a roof over his head, let alone the money to eat. Yet he didn't eat like someone who was starved. He ate like someone refined. He didn't inhale the food, instead he took meticulous bites and then chewed on them for at least a full minute. He took his time to savor everything. He was truly a man of patience.

When the waiter came over to take away some of the dishes, DJ glowered at him with the evilest evil eye she'd ever seen.

"Ignore him," she advised the waiter, handing him some of the plates. He did, though DJ still held onto one plate of steak he insisted he was going to try. Taking a break, he finally sat back in his seat with his hands behind his head. The woman leaned back and shut her eyes. Her belly was full and she felt truly relaxed. For a while she rested her eyes, enjoying the sounds of murmuring and punches from behind her, the smell of fire and delicious food, and especially DJ's quiet warmth. She dared to feel free, relaxed and at ease.

"Don't think I could sleep knowing you're so close to me but not in my arms," he nonchalantly said, picking up his knife and fork again.

Opening her eyes, she looked over at him with a bewildered stare. He had said it as though it were nothing. He cut into his steak like he hadn't just admitted something extremely sweet. She'd never been one for intimacy (especially after sex), but with DJ the idea didn't make her uncomfortable. That unsettled her more than anything. Luckily, the woman knew how to roll with the punches. She had to remind herself she truly liked DJ. It was just a matter of calming her fears. Feeling adventurous, she had an idea.

"With the way you look at me," she said putting her hand on his leg. That caught his attention, and he dropped his fork, watching her, "I didn't take you for someone interested in cuddling."

He looked back to his steak with a small smirk. Then, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. Taking a sip from his wine, he pushed his plate away. She thought for a second he was going to ignore her. But then he turned to her with a raised half smile she'd never seen before, and a fiery gaze she recognized as lust. He removed her hand from his leg, clutching it tightly in his grasp. Something seemed to come over him, as his cheerfulness turned to a smarmy charm. "Ooh, I love to cuddle," he said wrapping his arm around her waist, and putting his other hand on her bare leg. "But I don't think you want me to be tender, do you?" He whispered in her ear, sliding his hand up her leg. She instinctively clenched her thighs together and he forcefully wedged his hand between them. She held her breath. The only thing she could focus on was his hand under her skirt. His lips brushed up against her ear, and she shivered. His breath sent a chill from her ear to her neck, and then down her entire body.

Politely, he leaned away to give her some space, but still held on to her. Looking her up and down, his eyes imagined what was underneath the dress. Her resolve weakened under the spell of his gaze.

After a moment, he moved his hand from her thigh as he turned back to his food. His eyes still dark and burning he glanced back at her to see if she had anything to say. She didn't. This was new territory for her. She didn't really know how to react to someone like DJ. As much as she enjoyed his teasing, she was beginning to lose patience with it.

He grinned at her apprehension, taking a suggestive bite of the steak. She forced herself to look out the window to avoid the lustful plunge of her thoughts, but when she looked to the sea it only reminded her of the rolling covers in a bed.

DJ pushed his plate away, and laced his fingers in his lap. "The warrior t-t-trusting me, a thief, with her body. Allowing me to take her power away," he said with a chuckle. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as he finished, "I look forward to it."

But although his voice had conveyed an absolution, he still stared out the window avoiding her gaze. When she looked at his hands, they were clenched tightly together, almost as though he were trying to force them to stay in his lap and not go elsewhere.

He had never hidden his desire from her, but the game they were playing was usually spoken without words. He had admitted what they had seen in each other's eyes since the beginning. There were no mischievous or honey tongued phrases this time. He had spoken earnestly about what he wanted, and finally she saw her chance to move forward.

"Then, let's go," she said plainly.

His eyes darted to hers, not anticipating her eagerness. Strange, considering she was always eager around him. He relaxed, his heavy eyes looking tired again. He rubbed them, and then took her hands in his. Examining her fingers, he removed the bandage on her cut. The cut on her finger had closed, and when he saw this, he pulled out a few coins from his coat and tossed them on the table as the bench swung back around. Pulling her by the hand, he got up from the bench. His eyes now narrow and focused, he looked back at her. He was practically glaring. She followed him, and they walked back to the ship, hand in hand.


	8. Part 8: The Pleasure

The warmth of the ship encompassed them as they entered. The cold from outside had no doubt chilled them both, but they were unable to tell, having been so preoccupied. DJ took the hand he'd been holding, kissing it gently. Her breathing became ragged as she watched him. He put his hand gently on her neck, rubbing his rough fingers across it. Feeling brave, she placed her chilled hand onto his chest and slid it into the top of his shirt. He was burning hot. He tilted his head and peered at her the way an expert watches a novice. He made her feel sheepish. It was so refreshing. With the bemused expression still on his face, he tore her hand from his shirt and pulled her down the hallway.

DJ shut the bedroom door behind them. When he turned around to face her, the change in his demeanor startled her. The intensity of his gaze made her heart race. He began to slowly walk towards her. The clear intent behind his scowl was absolutely intimidating. She froze watching him. Her shallow breaths made her chest waver, as he edged closer. The smell of him flooded her senses, causing her to dizzy and cling to his shoulders. His presence was engrossing, his lean in to kiss her felt fluid, like he'd been kissing her since he shut the door. The touch of his lips to hers felt like fire. He tasted like wine mixed with aftershave. Their kiss was careful, unlike their hands, which sought all over each other's bodies.

She tried to take her clothes off, he stopped her. She tried to take his clothes off, he stopped her.

"Don't rush," he growled. She felt a flood rush between her legs. DJ was a man of patience she had to remember. Backing her into a wall, he pressed his body into hers. The pressure comforted her. She wanted nothing more to melt into him. His mouth was eager, as if he couldn't get enough of her lips, or her neck, or her shoulders. His newly grown stubble scratched against her skin. His hands roamed to the small of her back, gently massaging a spot he'd picked as his favorite. He couldn't help but to thrust into her. She'd grab his hips and pull him in each time, enjoying the hardness between his legs poking her. Yet, as he held her in his arms his intensity lessened to an amorous passion which felt calmer and sweeter. She tried to enjoy this calm before the storm, but she was throbbing. When she put her hands on the back of his head, he snapped and tugged on her hair, causing her to cry out in pleasure. In an instance, she felt like the wounded bird in the paw of a lion…again.

With her back against the wall, he slid his hand under her skirt and into the top of her underwear. He chuckled in her ear, as she gasped. Playing and rubbing her, he teased, "my my my look how wet you are."

After her knees almost buckled from beneath her a few times, he backed away. "Stay th-there," he demanded. Something about the way he told her what to do made her even wetter and she was happy to obey.

"Take off that dress," he said, his dark eyes flickering over her. She began to pull from the bottom of the dress, but hesitated when he took a step towards her. It was like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to be. She noticed his fists were balled at his sides. He wanted to grab her. Smirking at him, she pulled the dress off. Just as her hands darted over her bra, he stepped forward again, now in front of her. She faltered, wondering what he'd do.

"I didn't say s-s-stop," he said.

She removed the bra. Her breasts fell out, as she straightened her posture. Moaning, he bent down to put her nipple in his mouth. He bit and sucked on her breasts, grasping them firmly in his hands. Occasionally, he slapped her ass to bring her in towards him, as if she couldn't be close enough. Unable to stop herself any longer, she lowered her hand to his crouch to feel how hard he was. But before she could do more, he pulled her to the bed.

He removed his shirt and lowered himself on top of her. The heat and weight of him enthralled her, as she pulled him closer. His skin was burning against her cold fingers. He bit her bottom lip, and she automatically wrapped her legs around him. But he pulled away with a sly smile and lowered her legs. Her body was on fire, and she wanted him…no, she felt like she needed him. DJ waited, watching her as she squirmed on the bed. His gaze was so commanding that she was convinced he was touching her even when he wasn't. Finally, he bent down to caress her cheek and run his callused thumb over her mouth.

"Just like two red petals," DJ looked down between her legs. "I wonder," he whispered. His hand ran over her stomach and then over her underwear as she moaned.

He lowered himself down to her navel, kissing it and then he nestled his head between her thighs. She saw his devilish grin again. She realized this is what he'd been thinking about every time she'd seen it before. If she had thought the gaze he gave her normally was too much, she had difficulty handling the look he gave her from between her legs. It was ensnaring. His eyes were dark in the lighting of the room, and as they peered up at her, canopied by his thick eyebrows… she knew a single glance could send her over the edge.

His fingers wrapped around her silky underwear as he gave her another glance before tearing it. He haphazardly ripped them off, trying to gain access to her as quickly as possible. When he did, he spread her apart with his thumbs, groaning again. He put his hands on the back of her knees, hoisting her legs into the air, as he licked her once.

"I was right," he said, seeming to play with the taste in his mouth. He dropped her legs, and nestled his head again on her thigh. He exhaled a hot breath over her, making her shudder.

He put his mouth over her clit, as his tongue began to flicker back and forth. Her leg shook from the pleasure. He steadied it with his hand, and moved over her again, licking. Cries and moans escaped her lips as he delighted in her. The groans from his raspy voice vibrated through her adding to her rapture.

Reaching over her leg, he grabbed her breast, pinching her nipple, while he licked her. He played with her, getting her on the edge of orgasm and then pulling away to tease her.

"Please," she pleaded, putting her fingers in his hair. Her pleading made him moan and he obliged with a grin. He continued to lick and finger her as the orgasm welled up from within her. She felt a wave through her body as she convulsed in pleasure. When she became increasingly sensitive, she had to pull his hair to get his mouth away. He wouldn't let go, wanting to lick every last drop of her.

When he finally rose, his mouth and chin were soaking wet and he had the smuggest grin on his face. Taking his shirt from the bed, he wiped his mouth with it. She was amazed he still had his pants on. She relaxed from the intense orgasm as his hands ran over her body, massaging her. It was as though he were trying to etch her in his memory. DJ shook his head in disbelief. "How is your skin so-so soft…" he said in a whisper. He leaned down kissing her, and she felt his large bulge pressing into her again, making her moan.

Suddenly, he stood, pulling her from the bed and hoisting her onto the dresser. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

He took her hands and put them on his zipper, and she undid them. Before she could grab him, he kissed her and then put her hands on the back of his head. She closed her eyes and lightly tugged at his hair, kissing him. Grabbing his cock in his hand, he rubbed her with it, which made her gasp with surprised delight. Looking down at him, her eyes widened. He gave her a cheesy grin, and her eyes grew more wanting.

"Please," she said again. She knew he loved it. Dropping his smile almost immediately, DJ entered her. A throaty moaned escaped her lips as she cried out. He groaned as well, rasping about how tight she was.

He pulled her close, kissing her neck as he started to move in and out slowly. It drove her wild. He smirked, enjoying her shallow breaths and gasps.

DJ pushed one of her legs back before speeding up. The slapping from their skin boomed throughout the room, and she had to put her hands behind her for traction. He pinched her nipples and pulled her in, biting her neck hard. She was in ecstasy. He hit the spot inside her repeatedly. She cried out. Suddenly, he pulled away again, hoisting her up and throwing her on the bed with ease.

"On your knees," he said with a smile.

"Can't make up your mind?" she teased.

"I'm just g-greedy." He slapped her on the ass hard, and she moaned.

He spread her cheeks apart, licking between them before entering her again. The slapping from the force of him began again. He fucked her hard and uncaring, as she practically whimpered from the pleasure of it. From this angle, he was even deeper inside, so each thrust felt like uncontrollable euphoria. He bent down pulling on her hair, as she moaned in delight.

He flipped her over, "I wanna look at you."

He took a moment to kiss her, before grabbed his cock, slapping her clit with it suddenly. He entered again, watching her as she locked eyes with him. Her impassioned gaze made him stop for a second, as he slowed to prevent from finishing too early. With one hand gripping her breast, he started to rub her clit with his other.

"DJ," she breathed. She felt an impulse, one inspired by his fingers on her neck earlier. She took the hand on her breast and brought it up to her neck, "please," she said again.

He hesitated for a moment in disbelief. "Oh fuck," he said intoxicated, grabbing her throat with force. Then, he let go, seeming a little uncertain of himself. She brought his hand up again to her throat. He wrapped his hands around her neck with slightly less force, and it was perfect. Not wasting a moment to feel embarrassed he gripped her and slowed his pace to sudden hard thrusts. Feeling himself get close, he let go of her throat to focus on her clit again. He fucked and rubbed her with a hungry look in his eye which almost made her orgasm. The pleasure welled up within her again as she whispered, "I'm so close," and closed her eyes to prevent finishing.

"Don't hold back," he growled.

He sped up again, and she could feel him become more engorged as he got ready to cum. She opened her eyes. Looking at his smoldering gaze, did it for her. She groaned loudly, the insides of her convulsing and grabbing him. This sent him off the edge, as he pulled out of her at the last second.

He towered over her, gasping for breath, but smiling. After a moment, he bent down and kissed her. Then to her surprise, he wiped her stomach with his shirt. She sat up, pulling him in for another kiss, before heading to the bathroom to pee. In the mirror, she recognized the afterglow of sex, and the proud trophy of matted sex hair. She was elated and more satisfied than she'd ever been.

When she came back, he was under the covers leaning on his elbow like someone posing for a sexy photo. He looked incredibly good, but also ridiculous and it made her laugh. She put her dress back on which made DJ pout.

"I s-s-see. I know when I'm being used," he pulled the covers over his head.

She chuckled at him, "Just a reflex." Getting in bed with him, she pulled the covers over her head as well.

"Only n-n-naked people allowed under here," he said, pulling at her dress.

She tried to protest, "I'm taking it off geez!" but she wasn't fast enough for him, and he pulled it back over her head and threw it across the room.

"That's-s-s much better." He pulled the covers back over them. They turned on their sides to face one another, as his hand caressed the curve of her hip. The light from the room gleamed through the sheets, making it look like they were inside a cloud. It all felt very natural, and for the first time in her life she felt normal. She couldn't help but grin goofily at him, while he just gave her his usual amused smirk.

She furrowed her eyebrows in order to try and appear serious, "I have to tell you something and I don't know how you'll react to it."

Not taking her seriously, DJ tousled his messy hair. "Shoot."

"When you stutter on 's' you sound like a snake," she said with a grin.

He looked unimpressed and exaggerated his stutter, "S-s-s-s-so, what sh-sh-shadow lady?"

"It suits you is all I'm saying."

He scoffed and pinched her hip. She hit his hand. He chuckled and caressed her cheek. A wistful look was in his eye. "If I'm a snake, then you're a spider, SL."

"SL?" she asked before immediately realizing it was short for shadow-lady. He didn't answer her and instead pulled her over so that she'd lay her head on top of his chest. She'd never cuddled before, so she tried her best to get comfortable. His fingers wrapped in her hair playing with it until his breaths deepened and he drifted off to sleep. She thought of leaving, but reconciled that in fact she was very comfortable in his arms. Soon, the steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

Months later, the mischievous pair will find themselves on a dense world together, sitting in the back of a stranger's shop that they'll just have broken into. The woman will wrap a bandage around DJ's arm as tears will form and drop from her eyes.

He'll look to her and say, "What's wrong, SL?"

"You're bleeding, that's what's wrong." She'll say between sobs, "you're bleeding and it's my fault."

He'll wiped the tears from her face, unbothered. "Wow, you're really upset-t."

"I should have killed him earlier," she'll say with a guttural rage.

"We didn't know," he'll hold her hand to reassure her. "You look scary when you c-cry."

She'll stop wrapping the bandage, and hold him. "It's my fault," she'll sob into his chest.

He'll chuckle at her and say "SL, I think you l-l-love me or something."

She will back away, avoiding his gaze. Instead she'll check his wound. It will heal fine. He'll be in no danger.

"Don't be embarrassed, SL," he'll say just to tease her.

"Shut up. I didn't say anything like that," she'll mutter and finish wrapping his wound.

"Oh I th-think you just did." He'll say with a smirk.

"I am allowed to cry because you almost died. Don't play this game right now while you're still fucking bleeding," she'll reply bitterly.

He would stand with no issue, and SL will question if she overreacted. He'll walk to the counter of the shop, and start rummaging through the shelves. "What are we without our games, love?" He'll say as though it were nothing.

His response will make her annoyance lessen. The truth of his words will break through to her and she'll ask, "Love?" while standing to follow him.

He will look unbothered as usual. "Was going to call you that when we met, but d-d-didn't want to scare you," he'll say while finding a button hidden under the counter. He'll press it without pause and then look around for a response, to which there will be none.

She'll stand and cross her arms watching him, "That's ridiculous, but you did want to kiss me when I was unwashed and covered in dirt."

He will look back at her with a warm smile, "Love is strange, isn't it? But you wouldn't know, would you?"

"I would," she'll reply. There gaze will linger knowingly on one another….

Right before an alarm will sound.

She will yell at him and his response will be, like usual to just shrug his shoulders.

The end.


End file.
